


Like An Itch You Can't Scratch

by Avdal



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rey's not going to be happy when she wakes up, getting groped while unconscious, it's different from regular porn, touch porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8462974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avdal/pseuds/Avdal
Summary: His master may be all-powerful, but there are certain things that Kylo just has to learn on his own.  Like how the scavenger is much more fun to play with when she's asleep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few months after TFA in a scenario where Kylo captures Rey with the explicit purpose of learning how to use the force bond to provoke her no matter where she is.
> 
> Or something along those lines. This is just a humble one shot so let's not get too hung up on the details and just enjoy the ride, deal?

The girl was much more fun when she's asleep.

 

He watches her closely. Observing how her chest rises and falls with the perfect, cyclic rhythm of someone profoundly unconscious.

 

She wants to wake up. Keeps trying to, fighting against him, and then failing. Maybe it's petty, but he's enjoying keep her down. Even if it's necessary. It's essential that this first stage goes well or he won't be able to continue.

 

He gives a light tap to her shoulder and waits for any sign of a reaction. Her skin is ice cold to his touch and she'd probably be in a lot of discomfort if she was awake.

 

Protocol would require her to be hooked up to a vitals monitor. It would also require her to be taken back unmolested to a heavily guarded cell and kept restrained at all times. Neither of which he has any intention of doing until he's ready.

 

He couldn't imagine asking his master how to teach him this. Not at all. And since he's gone to all the trouble of bringing the girl here he might as well prove his point. So he crouches down next to the table and lets go of his hold on her mind just enough. Allowing her a fragment of freewill and watching as she immediately curls up around herself into a tight bundle.

 

Despite everything, all the precautions he's taken, she's getting restless. Her nervousness manifesting as a constant creeping itch in the back of his head.

 

For a long moment he simply stares at her and _feels_. Her internal rhythm is too fast even with her current state, making it difficult for him to catch the threads of her consciousness without waking her up. But eventually he finds the one that's most like his own and closes his eyes.

 

_Move._

 

He chooses a very simple command to start off with. Feels the refusal flaring in the background of their shared space. A light touch to her forehead and he refocuses, creating a clear mental image and pressing it back into her. Visualizes her uncurling out of her tight grip on herself and turning to lay on her back.

 

 _Nothing bad is going to happen to you._ He pushes that impulse along with the image. She doesn't have to believe him, so as long as-

 

She tries to turn over. It's a twitchy sort of movement. Unnatural and stilted from the forced separation of her mind and body, and he moves his hand from her temple to her shoulder to help. Gently pressing her flat.

 

The table isn't comfortable for her. He can feel how the hard surface presses into her back. It makes her wriggle deeper into the space where a pillow would be if she'd been allowed one.

 

Her discomfort is an important part of this, however. He can feel it through their link like it's happening to his own skin and he immediately latches onto it as she shifts. Clinging tightly the sensation and searching for the connections in her mind.

 

All it takes is a little more concentrated effort and then he finds it. Catches the bursts of activity in her nerves and neural pathways, giving him a map of exactly how her brain works. He tells her to move again, and this timeshe does it without hesitation. Rolling her shoulders like he wants her to and now he can feel every one of her muscle fibers as it contracts.

 

Experimentally, he reaches deeper. Feeling her from the inside out. She comes through to him in waves. Her breath. Her heartbeat. The quiet buzz of her suppressed psyche.

 

Then there's also a tiny thread of adrenaline that's attempting to work its way through to her. Some primitive part of her consciousness that's aware of him. He muzzles it quietly, burying it under the heavy layers of her fatigue.

 

Keeping her down this deeply is exhausting to them both, but it gives him an idea on where to go from here. This is exactly what he needs and it has every potential to be a lot of fun. Her body jolts as he presses harder onto her mind. A purely reflexive response and she slips a little further down into senselessness. The beginnings of a dream are even starting to form.

 

Kylo chooses to interpret this as a good sign: that she's willing to dream around him. Not that she exactly has any say in, but still... At least it gives him more room to explore.

 

And how far can he take this? Regardless of her current condition, he can't keep holding her down forever. As much as he might like to. At some point she _will_ wake up. He has to have discovered how to control her by then.

 

He places his hand on her forehead and over her eyes, feeling how her lids twitch under his fingers. Moving along with the progression of her dream. She tosses in her sleep again and he smiles, changing his focus to deeper inside her.

 

She breathes. He breathes. They're not synchronized together yet, but that should be easy enough to fix. He studies the patterns of her breathing, then calls on their connection to change them. It's what has guided him this far, after all.

 

Just to see if he can, he blocks the movement of her lungs for a moment. Imagines them freezing motionlessly in place. It's so easy he almost doesn't even notice when it happens.

 

Her breath stops halfway on an inhale. His own catches along with hers and he holds it there.

 

For most of a minute she's fine. Then her body begins to fight him. A twinge of distress ripples along their shared space. It actually pulls him in deeper, as if the force that connects them expects him to do something to help her.

 

Instead of letting go he grips tighter _._ So curious to see if she can break out of this in her sleep.

 

Her lungs burn, aching against his mind and wanting to expand but not able. That thread of adrenaline comes back, weaving through her as her blood composition begins to change.

 

It's getting unpleasant for him, too, but that's really not the point. She's becoming more fidgety as her agitation grows. Muscles fluttering as they try to wake her up but he firmly pushes her down again. Visualizes holding her underwater and their bond tries to tighten, warning him that something’s wrong. It's almost endearing how oblivious she is right now.

 

With that thought in mind he lets go. Carefully. Not wanting her to snap back too quickly. He compels her lungs to fill steadily instead of the deep gasps of air that they want to. It takes longer this way, but as he lets her return to normal the intense pressure slackens.

 

And to test his new limits, he holds his breath again. A moment of hesitation, and then she follows. He exhales. Begins breathing faster. She does the same.

 

Her psyche prickles, nervous and unhappy but still drifting, and he reaches in to feel more closely. No outward signs of distress yet but her mind is more active. It makes him wonder how much she's really aware of what's happening to her.

 

Well, one way to find out. The first part of his plan worked so flawlessly. The next step involves a little more exploration. More than he would have risked in the beginning, but this is going perfectly so far. He truly couldn't have asked the Force to allow him a better lesson.

 

He sits next to her on the cold exam table. Bare fingers tracing along the silhouette of her face, pausing momentarily over the bridge of her nose and pressing slightly to the center of her lips. When he reaches her neck he shifts slightly to the side, feeling her pulse through her jugular.

 

Unlike her artificially calmed breathing, her pulse is very erratic. Unsteady and threatening to race out of control and ruin all his hard work. She has to stay at least relatively calm for this and the easiest way to ensure that is by keeping her vitals in check.

 

He touches her over her heart, feeling how the skin right there is warmer than the rest. Cups it under his palm and feels the boniness of her torso give a sudden jerk before settling back into a steady rise and fall.

 

His eyes close and he exhales. Catches the impetus of her breathing again and pulls it into the wake of his own. She falls into an immediate harmony with him and that alone is enough to steady her pulse somewhat.

 

Now that he knows where to look, it's so obvious. He can clearly see how every part of her heart functions. Squeezing, releasing, pushing. A steady and beautiful sequence. Each of the billions of infinitesimal parts working together. Slowing down at his command. Not fighting his will as he controls the rhythm.

 

For a moment he fights the impulse before giving in to the temptation. Brushing the lightest of kisses on the skin over her heart before pulling back. It's a slightly too intimate gesture but necessary. That's the direction he needs to take this, and she'll just have to get used to him touching her if this is going to work.

 

And see, was that really so bad? She stays still for the next kiss. Contained safely, and all that fuss she was making was for nothing. He's not here to hurt her. However, that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun at her expense.

 

So he stops her heart. Not to injure her, but purely for his own amusement. He catches the nerves and freezes the muscle in place like he did with her lungs.

 

It's rather anticlimactic. Her body fought back when she was suffocating, but now her only response is disappointing silence.

 

Only a few seconds have gone by and he knows from experience that he can hold this for much longer before any real damage is done. That's exactly what he tells their bond which, if the intense wringing sensation in his chest is anything to go by, is currently trying to invert on itself. Like their connection can't quite comprehend that he would do that to her after it was so generous to bond them like this.

 

Fine. Point taken. He relaxes his grip with a sigh and, after missing a beat on its own, her pulse catches. At least now he has something he can lord over her. Remind her of the time he almost killed her in her sleep but didn't.

 

Still, though... He placates their bond by kissing her chest again. A soft peck against her skin and he smoothes her top back into place from where it had bunched up under his grip.

 

She's growing colder and he runs his hand up to her collarbone, tapping his knuckles each rib as he goes.

 

This was never meant to be a negative experience for her. Even if she's still buried deeply in her own mind, he wants her to be comfortable. The cold, hard table he had placed her on is anything but. He could move her somewhere else, but after what just happened he can't risk agitating her too much more.

 

He cradles her neck gently with his hand. Pressing hard enough to dent her skin and reassure himself that her pulse is strong and steady once more. She's still dreaming. Blissfully peaceful and unaware.

 

The thought makes him smile. He squeezes a little harder, being careful not to bruise the delicate skin of her throat. Searches for that focal point within her again, and realigns himself to her internal rhythm.

 

 _Faster_. He sends the order very carefully. Watching for the slightest sign that he's pushing his luck too far.

 

Her pulse speeds up, exactly like he'd wanted it to. Nothing too fast, just a quick enough beat to mimic his intention towards her.

 

Next he tells her breath to come out in short little pants. It fans across his wrist, fogging the faintest amount in the cold air of the exam room.

 

Two of the steps are done now, but the next one is harder to trigger. He lifts his hand up and floats it over her, unsure of exactly how to begin. Eventually he cups her face, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. It's supposed to be a soothing gesture and that part is critical. Relax her again so her mind stays open to him.

 

Surprisingly, she turns her head slightly to him, pressing against his palm. The gesture is very small, limited by her incapacitated state, but it feels almost affectionate. Not remotely suggestive despite some of his more questionable recent actions.

 

The thought of looking into her dream is intriguing. To see exactly what her mind is keeping her so preoccupied with. But then he'd run the chance of viewing something he might not like. A sad recollection from her lonely childhood or, even worse, a memory of a past lover. Neither one is something he cares to experience vicariously at this moment.

 

He removes his hand from her. Watching as she instinctively tries to follow the movement. Craning her head towards him in her sleep until he has to press her back down.

 

Her breathing falters slightly and he realizes he was holding his own. As connected as they are now mistakes like that are something he needs to be very careful with. A wave of his hand over her chest and her breath resets back to the shallow, rapid motions that match her elevated pulse.

 

She's starting to feel warmer which is exactly what he needs from her. The change in her temperature guiding him on how to proceed. Her reaction is close to what he wants, but the sensations he's creating in her could just as easily be interpreted as fear as they could to growing euphoria.

 

His palm lays flat across her sternum. She's so tiny in comparison that his hand spans the entire distance from her clavicle to the tops of her breasts. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps under his palm and he swallows, suddenly gripped with an uncharacteristic nervousness.

 

The Force gave them this connection as a gift. He has to keep remembering that. Neither of them wanted it, but it was through the will of the universe that they were brought together like this. There should be no boundaries between them.

 

It's almost a romantic thought, isn't it? Lovely but also very disarming, and he has to force his hand to move lower. Catches the edge of her sleeveless top and runs a crooked finger along it before pulling slightly down to expose a little more of her skin to him. Her nipples harden underneath the thin fabric and he lets it go. Whether that reaction was from his touch or the chill in the air he can't tell, but he skims her mind to be certain he hasn't lost his grip on her yet.

 

No. She's still deeply asleep. Oblivious and helpless against the wandering hands that were groping her.

 

 _T_ _his is wrong_. He knows that. Sexually harassing an unconscious prisoner is a new low. But... it's also why he brought her here. This is the missing piece.

 

And it's not like he hasn't thought about this before. Doing this to her. Except that it was much easier in his private daydreams than now, when she's here in the flesh before him.

 

It's not like he'll ever get permission, though, so just what is he waiting for? The thought that he can finally live out his fantasies should be enough of an incentive on its own.

 

With a forced movement he snags one of the straps of her sleeveless top and pulls it down off her shoulder. It catches beneath her body halfway down her arm and he leaves it like that, not wanting to lift her all the way up remove it more.

 

The motion gets repeated on the other side and he can't help but smile as her skin twitches underneath his fingers. Only now does he realizes that their bond has gone completely slack. Every bit as silent and passive as she is. Almost as if it's as curious to see what he does next as he is himself.

 

So he leans in even closer, the edges of his hair grazing her skin. His hand shifts to lightly trace along her stomach. Pressing against the muscles and firmness protecting her organs.

 

He pinches the fabric of her top, twirling and gathering it around his fingers. Pulls it down with a sharp gesture, completely exposing her small breasts to the open air. Her nipples immediately pucker again and he has to suppress a highly immature urge to just start playing with them. Tweak, flick, and twist them like they're his new favorite toy.

 

Instead, he cradles her shoulder and raises her up slightly so he can palm her chest with his free hand. Circles the boundary of her areola with her thumb and watches how her skin darkens under the slight pressure.

 

Her breast seems to almost swell under his touch, flushing to a slightly rosy shade that makes him irrationally giddy. He gives the tip a slight pinch, not too hard, and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.

 

She gasps abruptly and Kylo freezes, utterly overwhelmed by mortification. Desperately scrambling to come up with _any_ sort of explanation. He forces himself to look up at her, positive that his guilt is written all over his face.

 

But her eyes are still closed and her scream of indignation never comes. Rather, her mouth is slightly open, still panting softly like he'd ordered her to. Each shallow breath thrusting her chest into the palm that's cupping her as she pushes her body against him.

 

Somehow, despite everything that he's doing, she's still asleep. It makes him blink twice, stupefied. But a quick glance into her mind revels it to be as suppressed as it was before. She's still dreaming. And, if her rather put out appearance is anything to go by, she's having a very _interesting_ dream.

 

This time he doesn't even try to resist. He closes his eyes, resting his forehead between her breasts, and sinks back into her.

 

Her dream unfolds effortlessly to him. Offering him a very candid look at what has been keeping her so occupied while he gropes her.

 

And he sees himself in her mind. The shock of it almost enough to make him wake her up to prove he's not hallucinating. But the image of himself, half-naked and pressing the scavenger down is vividly playing out through her dream.

 

As impossible as it is, she's imagining that she's with him. They are sprawled out against a pool of dark sheets, him on top of her as he roughly tears away her clothing. She struggles and twists, trying to get away as he flips her over, pinning her down by the back of her neck.

 

It's such a vivid and almost violating scene that Kylo abruptly retreats out of her head. That... that particular fantasy belonged to _him_. It was one of his favorites, but seeing it unfold from a spectator's view made it seem much worse than it was in his head.

 

Somehow she must have picked it out of his memory. Could she really do that? Even in her profoundly confined state? Or maybe he'd-

 

Or he'd projected it to her by accident. When he'd thought about fantasizing about her a few minutes ago, that specific dream had been one of the ones he'd remembered. Left it burning in the back of his mind to keep his nerve up.

 

It makes sense, he supposes. He's just done everything possible to bury himself in her head. And then he went and showed her that without realizing it. It explains why she was so quiet. Too wrapped up in _his_ fantasy of her to wake up when he started to touch her in real life.

 

If anything, his caresses probably amplified the effect. She's nearly breathless underneath him, her skin thoroughly warmed and her back arching closer. Pushing more of her into the hand he still has cupped over her.

 

And it's all too much. To think that he could have been dragging her - the real her - into his most private fantasies if he'd only known how to do it earlier. And she's giving every indication of genuinely enjoying them, despite that particular scene being one of the most depraved.

 

If he'd only known that he could do this sooner-

 

 _Oh krif_ _f_... he would have done it all the time, wouldn't he? _All the time_.

 

Maybe that's why he knew Snoke would be so condemning if he found out that he'd captured the girl and planned on doing this to her. Now that he knows how to connect with her like _this_ , she'll be the greatest distraction he'll ever face.

 

Even now, as he has her so trapped and isolated, all he can think about is how she looks underneath him. So vulnerably perfect that he never wants to leave this room. Not when every twitch of her body proves that his erotic daydreams may not have been mutual but they certainly aren't one-sided anymore.

 

He pulls her torso towards him again, closing the distance as he wriggles his arm further underneath her. He blows lightly across each of her breasts, first the right then the left. It causes those delightful goosebumps to break across her skin and he's convinced he could play with her like this for _days_.

 

Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he takes her left nipple in his mouth. Gently suctioning it and twirling his tongue around the tip.

 

It makes her sigh deeply, a throaty and rough quality to the quiet sound. Her hips buck against him and he lets go to smother his grin in the space between her breasts. He knows _exactly_ what part of her fantasy she's now at and it's so sorely tempting to just forget everything and join her in her dream.

 

But that has to wait for next time. And there definitely will be a next time. After this he'll be hard pressed to find a reason to ever let her sleep in peace again. For now, though, he very much would like to continue with mapping out all the different ways her body can react.

 

He gives her nipples another pinch. This time focusing on the response happening inside her rather than externally. Tracing his attention along her nerves and discovering exactly how her arousal is wound through her.

 

It's an odd but very consuming feeling. Like a deep yearning that ripples along her body. He concentrates on it, trying to amplify the sensation and will it to flow more strongly.

 

She gasps again, and he follows. Watching how her inner heat grows at his command. Predictably the feeling starts to settle in her lower body. Making her unconsciously press her legs together and squirm underneath him. Occasionally bucking her hips up and grinding on him for friction.

 

This is where he has to draw the line. He won't allow himself any actual physical contact that's that intimate while she's still unconscious. Everything else he's done so far has been relatively tame. Inappropriate certainly, but nothing too excessive. Yet.

 

He sits up, moving to crouch over her thighs and pin her hips in place.

 

It's not like he has to actually touch her anymore, anyhow. He's now extremely confident that he can pleasure her simply by reaching into her mind. With the physical feelings of her body in lust burned into his memory he won't even have to lift a finger to bring her to bliss.

 

Surely _that_ would be enough to wake her up. And she shouldn't get upset. Not if he can show her that not only was he doing nothing to hurt her but, in fact, he was doing exactly the opposite. Then maybe... she won't be so furious with him. Maybe she'll even understand why he did all this.

 

Except she's definitely not going to understand. At all. He knows this, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. She probably won't even give him the chance to explain himself.

 

He taps his knuckles against her collarbone. It creates a soft, hollow sound that helps to partly to drive his point home and partly to stop him from half-strangling her like he'd absentmindedly been doing. She's going to be so angry. He can feel it even now. The indignation burning within her, lurking in the back of her subconscious.

 

Dealing with that will be unavoidable. But it's also highly unfair. It's not fair for her to be so upset with him. He certainly wouldn't be if their roles were reversed. If she had been the one to capture _him_ with the sole purpose of knocking him out and then waking him up with an orgasm-

 

He has to pull further away from her, before this much closer contact and that line of thought lead him to contradict himself.

 

At least now he has the perfect new material for his next fantasy. And this time he can bring her into with him. See if she likes being in charge even though he'll be the one in control.

 

And that's it. That's what decides it for him. He now has everything he needed to know. Just one last step, and this may be the hardest one. It's time for her to be woken up.

 

He hovers over her, giving her space but still keeping his face close enough to hers that each of his breaths fan across her lashes. Gently pets her hair, stroking it smoothly from her temple to down along the sides of her head. Enjoys this one last peaceful moment with her.

 

Then he starts to pull her consciousness from the depths where he'd buried it.

 

“You can wake up now,” he murmurs, watching closely for any sign this is about to end poorly for him.

 

A few long seconds of stillness and silence. He's not sure if she hears him until finally her eyes flutter open.

 

She stares at him blankly, confusion written all over her face. He can actually _feel_ when her heart skips a few beats.

 

“Hello, Rey.” It's the first time he's said her name aloud and he's pretty sure he's grinning as wide as he can. That's probably more shocking to her than anything else.

 

Her look of surprise turns to a growing sense of violation as she tries to reach out. Touch him like she's trying to pretend he's not real.

 

He lets himself skim into her mind, savoring her rising panic. It makes her cringe away from him. But of course there's nowhere for her to go, and a tiny pinch of shame ripples from some deep corner of his brain.

 

He bites it back with a laugh. The short burst of air across her skin directs her attention down to her fully exposed breasts and he's only too eager to thrust his most recent memories into her head.

 

A furious blush that erupts all the way from the tip of her nose to past her hairline. It turns her freckles adorably darker and he blows on them, making her emit a strangled squeak as she struggles to say something. She's not just angry, she's actually _apoplectic_.

 

He laughs again. Oh no no no. It's too perfect. He closes her throat with his will. Preventing whatever outburst she's was building up to. He feels no shame here at all. In fact, this is _fun_.

 

It turns out that it's absolutely impossible to feel too guilty when you're just so damned pleased with yourself like Kylo is at that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the rough draft of this while sitting in the waiting room at my dentist's office and feeling literally nauseous with dread over the upcoming procedure. Fun fact: apparently writing something perverted is a great distraction for anxiety.


End file.
